Ode of the Damned
by ASimpleMind94
Summary: Layla Grayson never liked playing the good girl. And after the 'incident' in the woods, she's badder than ever and carving out her own 'destiny'. Now think: What if Peter Hale had a beta that wasn't as reluctant as Scott? How would another beta affect the happenings in Beacon Hills? Well, we're about to find out. Potentially,Derek/OC or Issac/OC. Canon timeline.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, it's unfortunate but I'll survive.**

**This story is something I've been thinking about for a while: What if Peter Hale had a beta that wasn't as reluctant as Scott? How would another wolf affect the happenings in Beacon Hills…? Well, we're about to find out.**

**Here is a prologue, meant to give you a flavour for the character and my writing if you're not familiar with it.**

* * *

><p><em>People often lament for the good girls. Those girls who had so much 'potential', those girls who made stupid decisions and made people watch as all this potential went to waste. That is how the heroine of this story was seen, or more appropriately is seen, but she would tell you a different story. She was never a good girl; she was never one to impede her own happiness to make herself look better in the eyes of others. She only allowed people to buy into the illusion of her supposed virtuousness since it benefitted her. People would say that making the wrong decisions ruined Layla Grayson; Layla Grayson would argue that taking a walk on the 'wild side' is the one thing that allowed her to access her true potential.<em>

_That is the thing with potential; it measures someone's capabilities in a certain area. It isn't bound by the constraints of morality. So who is to say that these 'good girls gone bad' are wasting their potential? Layla would argue that they are simply embracing another side to their potential, choosing to walk the path of the morally ambiguous rather than that of social expectations. That these girls are pioneers, choosing their own destinies and doing as they please rather than following orders like an animal. Who is it that you should want to please with the choices you make? Your parents, your friends, your lover? All of these people can abandon you; all of these people have the 'potential' to leave you broken. To leave you alone as the world seems to look over you, as you become invisible and inconsequential._

* * *

><p>My head is throbbing, as though a work crew have taken a pneumatic drill to my skull. The taste of cheap tequila lingers on my tongue which feels as though it has grown a thick layer of fur. Opening my eyes, which feels as though they've been sealed with superglue, is an arduous task: My vision blurs but the dim light streaming through the window from the streetlamp outside is bright enough to burn my retinas. Once again I'm hung over, a feeling I've become all too familiar with this summer and judging by the soft snores coming from beside me: It seems as though I've managed to find myself in bed with another stranger.<p>

And judging by the soreness radiating from between my legs, I've definitely had sex with said stranger. The pungent stench of sex and sweat clings to the fine hairs of my nostrils. I remember his hands clumsily trailing along my body, harsh whispers promising a pleasure beyond anything I'd ever experienced. The memories may be blurred, but I know that it wasn't anything special; his promises of me writhing in ecstasy never came to fruition. As well of his promises of incredible stamina, or generally being equipped to satisfy a girl's needs. Chancing another glance at the evening's conquest, I have to admit that he's attractive: Chocolate brown hair that falls into his eyes that I'm pretty sure are a startling green, as far as I can remember, strong jaw and a body that would make most girls swoon.

Attractive or not, he's nothing special. From what little I can remember from today, his conversational skills were on par with his sexual prowess. Sliding from the bed, trying not to disturb my nameless bedfellow I stumble over to the window where the light is streaming in. Last thing I can recall clearly was settling down to start drinking in the early afternoon, and after that it's a bunch of imprecise images such as straddling someone; kissing a number of unidentifiable people and taking more shots than I care to count. A true au revoir to the summer, but now it's time for me to perform my famous disappearing act and make sure I get home before Dad starts to worry.

I stumble through the spacious room. Praying silently that the man in bed stays fast asleep, I'm trying to find my clothes without having to endure the awkward 'how was that for you?' I don't know how long I've been crawling around the room, trying to find my clothes which had been haphazardly thrown all over the place. Pulling on my mismatched lingerie and my navy blue playsuit, I head towards the door after one last glance at the scene I'm leaving: The boy who thought of himself as a man looked nothing more than a boy curled up and painted innocent by his sleep. Pathetic.

College boy are practically high school boys, with even bigger egos but it's definitely worth it. Despite their unjustified arrogance, their resourcefulness is more than enough compensation with the alcohol flowing and everything else they can get their hands on. Quietly shutting the door behind me, I trail through the shoddily decorated apartment: An eclectic assortment of furniture, the random movie posters pasted along the walls and bodies strewn across the open plan layout in random states of undress and intoxication. This is most definitely student accommodation, the empty beer bottles littering the uncarpeted floor.

"Hey sexy, where do you think you're off to?"

I inwardly cringe, my hopes of a clean getaway dashed. Turning around I arrange my features into a lazy smile, I run my eyes down the boys sculpted body. Thankful that he'd decided to skip wearing a shirt; I notice his eyes trail my own body appreciatively, his eyes darkening with lust and his lip curling in admiration. I quirk my eyebrow, in a way that clearly says 'somewhere you're not'. Before offering him a coy smile and leaving before he can say anything else. If he's lucky then we might cross paths again and he'll have the opportunity to prove his worth, but right now I'm more concerned with getting home and having a nice, long shower since there's no doubt in my mind that I reek of sex.

* * *

><p>An annoying habit of people who don't live in Beacon Hills is that they paint this image that it's some kind of suburban paradise. In a sense, they're right: Most of this area in California is all white picket fences and fancy cars, but there are the shadier areas. The areas that people aren't likely to talk about around the dinner table, unfortunately for me I find myself walking through such a place. This late in the evening, the streets are dark and eerily silent: The cliché prequel to something disastrous happening, but I'm unconcerned. I know how to defend myself well enough, and although this is the 'rougher' part of Beacon Hills it's nowhere near as bad as some areas across the country.<p>

I push my hands further into the pockets of my denim jacket as a cold wind blows and my body involuntarily shivers, kicking at a piece of trash on the floor and quicken my pace. I really don't want to get caught in the rain that is inevitably going to make its presence known, I decide to head towards the path that leads through the preserve so that I can hopefully get home before I get drenched. The silence is broken by a rustling up ahead in the trees, the street lamp throws a shadow of some creature against the wall but I ignore it. Walking through the woods at night, it's expected that you're going to come across something like a badger or fox. Possibly a coyote, but I remember what my father has always told me 'they're more scared of you, than you are of them'.

The silence that had followed me since leaving the nameless boys' apartment seems to have followed me into the woods, usually you're able to hear animals scurrying through the terrain but it isn't surprising. A storm is on its way and with animals' senses being more attuned to things like weather, then there is a distinct possibility they've gone into hiding until the storm passes. Continuing on I hear a commotion in the distance, and then a roar echoes through the woods. More precisely, the howl of a wolf: Which is damn near impossible since wolves had migrated from California a number of years ago. Seriously, people need to get lives.

"If you're trying to scare me, you're failing miserably. Next time you try a prank, I suggest doing a little bit of research beforehand."

I'm tired and ravenous, which doesn't mean I have the greatest tolerance for juvenile idiocy right about now. Storming through the woods, more eager than ever to get home since school starts tomorrow and rolling in after barely any sleep isn't going to help me in any way. A crash resonates, closer than before, and my body tenses in anticipation. Then a series of howls join the cacophony of sounds, also closer than before and I feel myself getting angry. What is it with people nowadays; can't they see I haven't got time to play their little games? Maintaining my ignorance I follow the roughly carved path that leads to a broken fence near the street where I live, until I hear a rustling just beyond the tree line. Rational thought flees my head as I storm towards the source of the sound, a harsh diatribe waiting at the tip of my tongue.

"You little…"

The verbal lashing I was prepared to give is brought to an abrupt end as something bursts from the trees. I jump out of the way to prevent myself getting trampled in this stampede of animals, upon hitting the floor I can't hold back a groan of pain as I hear a sickening crack come from somewhere near my ankle. Dragging myself away from the fray, I gently poke my ankle and gently whimper as pain shoots through my leg and from looking down it's apparent it is beginning to swell rapidly. Just great, I pull myself against a tree and try to pull myself upright, but I can't hold myself up as my stomach convulses as the pain in my ankle forces me to slide back to the damp ground.

I hear someone breathing heavily behind me, reaching for the switchblade hidden in my purse I turn to confront whoever it is. Rather than finding myself facing some human predator, I'm faced with a monstrosity: Upon first glance, I'd call it a wolf. But it's something more, larger than wolves are meant to be with its front legs grazing the mossy ground as it supports itself solely on its hind legs. But the most disturbing thing are the eyes, crimson orbs glitter dangerously in the dark. It prowls forward, ivory fangs bared and leaving no room for doubt that they could tear me to pieces. My heart is hammering against my ribcage, adrenaline coursing through my body I pull myself backwards.

I would scream, but I'm transfixed as its ruby eyes meet my own orbs of ice blue. 'Never let something know you're scared of it', my Dad's advice whispers in the back of my mind. I stay completely still, silently praying it will leave me alone as I clench my fist around my switchblade. Ready to lash out if needs be. The creature tilts its head, observing me, and barks out in what could only be described as a wolfish chuckle. Its mouth opens into a twisted grimace, a pregnant pause as we stare at one another before it lurches forwards.

The pain is indescribable. The creature's teeth buried into my abdomen, it feels as though a thousand tiny knives which were bathed in the hottest flames are lancing through my torso. I can't suppress the scream that erupts from me, echoing throughout the preserve: I'd try to form words, to beg for help, plea for the pain to end. I hope to sink into oblivion and never return as a fire sears my veins. My vision begins to darken; the creature pulls back and appraises me for a moment, sniffing at my auburn hair, before prowling off back into the woods. Agony resonates through my body, I can feel the raindrops that have begun to fall batter my skin and it feels as though I'm sinking. As my body succumbs to the intense pain and I lose consciousness, I see blue eyes glowing from the tree line.

* * *

><p><strong>Now, as a prologue it is short. I wanted it to be kind abstract, but still give a sense of Layla.<strong>

**Layla is a character that I've created to cause a stir, and I know you haven't got a full feel for who she is or how she will fit into the story: But I'm hoping in the next chapter I can achieve that, and show that she is nowhere near as bad as she appears to be in this chapter. I think she'll be like marmite, either loved or hated by the readers…. But, I don't know if this is something you'd like to read?**

**So please leave a little review, with a bit of feedback. Even if you think this idea sucks, let me know what you want to read so that I can work within that! :)**

**So, I have three stories for Teen Wolf moment, but being between jobs gives me a lot of free time to work on them. So, updates will be once weekly and maybe more at other times :)**

**Remeber to REVIEW people**

**-Ornella xox**


End file.
